


What I Believe

by Kuroenamel



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Dining at the Ritz (Good Omens), Fluff, Happy Ending, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Kissing, Light Angst, Light Angst with a Happy Ending, Love, M/M, Requited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 12:28:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20291458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuroenamel/pseuds/Kuroenamel
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale are left to confront their feelings.





	What I Believe

Everything had always seemed to end this way.

Crowley, formerly _Crawley,_ would spend his time pining after a single goal. Or multiple, if he felt that he needed to get things done. Most of the time, he would complete whichever task he was assigned, whether it be from Hell's Council, or from the subtle voice in the back of his head. It was always _how_ he went about completing these tasks that would vex him later on.

Of course, he was always a showoff when it came to impressing the Council, and didn't waste any time cleaning up his work to look as pretty as possible. The better the job was done, the more likely he was to get a promotion. And Satan knows, he could use a promotion.

But there was one task that always had bugged him. A task that he never really could seem to complete. And whenever he did decide to go about it, it was _never _ pretty.

* * *

Crowley sauntered into the old bookshop, almost instantly relaxing at the familiar scent that filled the atmosphere. Aziraphale, perched at his desk, noticed him immediately.

"Crowley!" he exclaimed. Crowley almost chuckled at how Aziraphale's face had brightened. 

"Hiya," he said dryly. His friend smiled at him nonetheless.

"You won't believe it," the angel said. "We just got a new shipment of books, and trust me, there are _loads_." 

Crowley gave a slight smile. "Well isn't that great?"

Aziraphale's expression faltered. "Yes, it is."

Crowley walked past him, into the back room. His eyes grazed over the thin layer of dust that coated the shelves. It couldn't have been that long since the angel had cleaned.

The demon's eyes caught on something off to the side. A small, slightly wilted plant stood solemnly on the edge of one of the counters, fighting to keep its natural forest green color. Crowley sighed. Of course it was unlike Aziraphale to neglect life of any kind, especially that of nature.

Crowley walked out of the back room, turning to stand in front of the angel. "Keeping plants in the shop, are we?" he asked.

Aziraphale gave a slight look, almost that of a grimace. "I've been trying. It's not as easy as you make it look, you know."

Crowley scoffed. "That's because you coddle them too much."

"I do not!" the angel exclaimed. "And I do not think it is appropriate to reprimand them as you do. They _do_ have feelings, you know."

"I know," the demon said. "Which is exactly why it is crucial to invoke the _feeling_ of fear in them."

Aziraphale glared at him, grabbing a book from the shelf. He began to flip through the pages, shifting his attention away from Crowley.

"You're mad at me now," he said. The way he said it sounded as if it should have been a question, but he phrased it as more of a statement. This got no response from the angel. "What if we went out tonight? Hmm? I'm sure there's an opening at The Ritz."

"There isn't," Aziraphale replied sourly. "It's a Friday night."

"Well, I'm sure I could make _something_ happen."

"I have no interest in dining with you if all you're going to do is make a mockery of me!"

Crowley stumbled on his thoughts. He was taken aback by the seriousness of his friend's voice, especially over something so minor. But it was always the little things with Aziraphale, positive or negative.

"Look, Angel," he said. "I'm not . . . I'm not trying to make a mockery of you. I promise. Do you trust me?"

A small moment of silence filled the room. Crowley was silently thankful that no humans were around to witness the pathetic display.

"I trust you," Aziraphale said quietly.

"Good," Crowley said. "Then trust that I don't want to hurt you. And I want to make you happy in any way I can. As a friend," something inside of him choked on the last sentence.

Aziraphale finally looked up at him. A depressed expression covered his face, and the demon sensed that there was something else going on beyond raising plants. "Alright. Let's go then, Crowley."

Crowley smiled at him, taking his hand to help him up. It was an unnecessary move, but it sent a jolt of something through his body. He managed not to flinch as he lead the angel to his car, their hands bound together still.

* * *

Aziraphale had been right --- The Ritz was, in fact, booked for the evening, but Crowley had managed to make sure that a couple "conveniently" couldn't make it. And a short phone call later, they had a reservation for two at seven o'clock.

Crowley had picked up on many little behaviors that Aziraphale would commonly display when given certain situations, but one of his favorites was seeing his friend's face light up when they entered a restaurant, especially The Ritz. It was by far the angel's favorite place to eat, and though Crowley never ate much, he always enjoyed pleasing Aziraphale.

"Oh, Crowley, this is just what I needed," Aziraphale sighed, giving his friend a warm smile. "I seldom have a time to relax when the book store gets as busy as it is."

"Anytime, Angel."

They were seated at a small table for two, slightly secluded from the rest of the guests. the table was dressed with a soft white tablecloth, and was set with exceptional dishes and silverware. Crowley quickly ordered a bottle of champagne as soon as they were seated, which was always a custom. Though Aziraphale didn't enjoy it as much as Crowley did, it was still nice to have _something_ to consume when the angel was the only one eating.

Aziraphale pondered over the menu for a few minutes before announcing that he was going to be ordering seafood.

"What kind of seafood?" the demon asked with an indifferent tone.

"I-I don't know," the angel stuttered. "I just know that that's what I'm in the mood for tonight."

"You're always in the mood for anything," Crowley joked.

After the waiter returned twice without a decision from Aziraphale, he finally decided on lobster. This earned the prominent raise of an eyebrow from Crowley.

"Lobster?" he inquired. "Going all out tonight, eh, Angel?"

"Well, I've always had a taste for the finer things in life," the angel sighed. "And I need something to make me feel happy tonight."

"And why would that be?"

Aziraphale hesitated, unsure.

"I've simply been in a bit of a hard place lately, is all. I'm not sure if it has to do with the whole 'here-then-gone Armageddon,' or the weight of Heaven and Hell watching our every move, but I haven't been up to the task as of late, it seems."

"Aziraphale," the demon said, placing a hand on his carefully. "I understand that it's difficult. Heaven, it's _extremely_ difficult, and I would know. But I also know that you're strong. You're very strong, Angel. And no matter what it is, I know you're going to get through it."

"I know . . ."

"But I also want you to know that you don't have to get through it alone."

Aziraphale's eyes drifted upwards to meet his friend's, and he smiled. "Thank you, Crowley. And don't go off on me again, but you truly are a nice person."

Something inside Crowley twitched, and he wasn't sure if it was annoyance at the word "nice," or something else, but a smile came naturally to him anyways.

"And you're not anything like those bastards up there, either."

* * *

Aziraphale and Crowley arrived home at approximately nine o'clock, walking into the small bookstore.

"I assume I should leave now," Crowley didn't mean it to sound like an invitation as much as it did."

"It's always up to you, Crowley. But I wouldn't mind it if you stayed."

"I wouldn't mind it either."

They ventured upstairs to Aziraphale's small room, which was hardly used, but somehow clean. Crowley sat on the edge of Aziraphale's bed, and looked at him carefully.

"Y'know, I never would have thought in 6,000 years that I would have this kind of a friendship with you, Angel."

"Neither did I, my friend."

"I've known many, many people throughout those years," Crowley continued. "But none of them were quite like you."

Aziraphale stuttered on his words, trying to figure out what to say in response. A simple "thank you," was all that left him.

"Aziraphale, I know you trust me. And I know you trust me to tell you the truth," the angel didn't move. "Correct?"

"Correct."

"And I always trust you to do the same. So, I think it's time that I tell you something that I haven't quite been able to tell myself yet. But I do know it to be true."

A light blush crossed Aziraphale's face, but he remained calm. "Yes?"

"Aziraphale, I love you," Crowley held a breath that he didn't need, straining the lungs that he didn't require, and felt a heart pound that he wasn't sure he had.

"Crowley, of course I love you," Aziraphale said. Crowley gave a weak look. "And I know that it's in the same way that you do. I can feel it."

"Then why . . . ?"

"I've waited 6,000 years to tell you this, my dear, because I could never find it fathomable. It goes against everything that I am supposed to believe in. And those things, I _did_ believe in. But I don't believe in them anymore," he continued. "They do not speak for me in the way that they used to. I can determine what I think is right for me. And this," he smiled softly at the demon. "This is the most right thing I can think of. Being here with you. Because I love you, Crowley."

The demon took the angel's hands in his, stroking his finger over the back of Aziraphale's hand. "Well, better a late love than never a love at all."

"I couldn't have said it better myself."

And it was then that they shared their first kiss.

It was then that Crowley completed the task he didn't even know he was given.

It was then that everything that felt wrong came to a close.

Even if this was the action most despised by Hell, it was the one that was damned most cherished by Crowley.

And somehow, the angel, on the other side of their kiss, felt the exact same way.


End file.
